


the meaning of joy

by VesperNexus



Category: The Spy Who Came in from the Cold - John Le Carré
Genre: Fluff, Humour, M/M, happiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11499795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperNexus/pseuds/VesperNexus
Summary: A collection of rare moments. Joy, fluff, happiness.





	the meaning of joy

**Author's Note:**

> because SOMEONE decided i needed another series for "happy" drabbles.

“Smiley. George. George-”

Smiley turned to face Leamas, leaning forward on the leather armchair. He raised one eyebrow, lips turned downwards. “What is it Alec?”

His friend licked his lower lip and looked away, running a calloused hand through his greying hair. “I-” he paused, as if unsure of how to continue. “I’m asking – I’m going to be asking – going to _ask-_ ”

The words withered on his tongue. Smiley furrowed his brows together, taking note of Leamas’ rapidly paling complexion. “Are you okay, Alec? You look a touch sick.”

Leamas shook his head, pressing his fingers to his right temple. “No I’m fine. I just-” he sighed in frustration. His shook his head, as if forcing himself to come to his senses. “You know Fiedler.”

“Uh.” Smiley was quickly becoming confused. “Yes Alec. I know Fiedler.”

Leamas leaned in, and stared Smiley hard in the eyes. There was such a terrible intensity to his gaze.

“Well you’re his-” he searched for the right word. “Friend.”

Smiley snorted. “I don’t know if I would call his friends.”

His companion let out a noise of frustration. “Alright his- his-”

“Alec. Use your words, it’s really not that difficult.”

“Ineedyourblessing.”

“ _What?”_

His friend looked like he was about to be physically sick. “I need your-”

“ _I heard what you said!”_

There was a deafening silence. It permeated every corner of the study, intense, pervasive, suffocating.

“Alec.” He could scarcely suspend his disbelief. “You need my blessing?”

His friend nodded mutely. Smiley wondered if he could talk, even if he tried.

“You’re asking him to marry you.”

No response.

“Alec.” Silence. “Alec. You’re asking Fiedler to marry you.” Nod. “And you… need my blessing?”

“Yes.” Leamas suddenly stood, the chair quaking with his sudden movements. Smiley felt breathless. His friend turned and hid his face, although Smiley could see the red tinge patching his cheeks. “You’re his…”

“His?”

“His…”

“His?”

“Damn it, George, you know what I’m trying to say!”

“I really don’t!”

He stood up as Leamas flung around to face him. “You’re basically his family!”

Smiley needed a moment to find his words. He could feel his senses quickly fleeing. “Alec,” his tone was regretful, resounding. “I’m just George Smiley. I’m not Fiedler’s anything.”

Leamas shook his head and pointed an accusing finger at him. “That’s not true. You know it’s not.” He sighed. He seemed to be doing that an awful lot. “Humour me, Smiley.”

 _This is ridiculous._ “Alec-”

“George-”

“ _Alec.”_ His friend quietened. Smiley could feel a headache building behind the hollows of his eyes. He looked at Leamas for a long moment. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” The answering _yes_ was unnecessary. “Yes, Alec. Yes, you-” _God, it’s like giving away a teenage daughter._ “You have my blessing.”

There was such a perceptible relief in Leamas’ devastatingly bright eyes, as if Smiley’s answer surprised him. His shoulders seemed to deflate as all the tension seeped from his body.

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

“Thank you.” Leamas nodded almost to himself. “Great. Great. I’m just going to go ask him now.”

Smiley could feel his lips turning upwards on their own accord. “You do that.”

Leamas left, his sweaty palms pressed heavily against the fabric of his trousers. Smiley sat back down, and pulled the half-empty tumbler to his lips.

Fascinating.


End file.
